


Dead Weightless

by BlanketFortAvenger



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: A Bit of Dark Comedy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Dirty Dick Jokes, Bad Flirting, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Cliffhangers, Comedy, Complete, Dick Jokes, Dirty Jokes, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Fanboy Rhys (Borderlands), First Kiss, Flirting, Getting Together, Handsome Jack is Secretly a Goof, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Injuries, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Not Really Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sassy Rhys (Borderlands), Vaughn is a Good Bro, lots of really bad puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24698389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlanketFortAvenger/pseuds/BlanketFortAvenger
Summary: “Hello valued employee”. Handsome Jack’s pre-recorded voice plays straight into Rhys’ mind. “I demand your presence in my office at your earliest convenience". Rhys has fantasized about this moment since he saw Handsome Jack on a Hyperion advertisement over a decade ago, but he's not about to let his obses- admiration get in the way of his ambition.Two months after Hugo Vasquez stole his promotion, Rhys gets called up to the CEO's office to discuss why he hasn't been pulling his weight. Rhys suspects that Jack's sense of humor might be the death of him.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 219





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm finally posting my first rhack fic, real late to the picnic, but I've been reading them for a while now. I'm trying for a different style to my usual in this, so please forgive any inconsistencies. Lastly, this is canon divergent from the beginning of Tales, but Jack never died and is still CEO. It is not Borderlands 3 compliant. I haven't played the game yet, so please, no spoilers. Hope you enjoy.

Rhys blinks long and slow, frozen moisture fractals forming on his lashes. He drifts, nothing below the soles of his skag-skin boots. Everything is silent, even the explosion billowing from one of the top limbs of Helios, fuelled by the recycled oxygen now pouring into the vacuum of space. Pieces of the satellite’s debris drifts past them. He just has to get close enough to re-connect to the echo-net. The hologram in his palm twitches the spasms of a dying interface. They’re just on the fringes of the grid, just twenty feet from not suffocating to death. Pandora looms to their right, as if setting on the horizon of their existence. Despite everything, Rhys honestly hadn’t expected it to end like this. 

Half a month ago, Rhys had been on top of the world.

Rhys had a good feeling about today. Walking the walk had never been easier. His strides were long, his tie longer, his finger-guns quicker, and his game stronger. Rhys was higher than he’d been in weeks. High on ambition, and maybe a little on eridium. He had been working with the stuff for the past fortnight. He’d already outdrawn three of his co-workers this morning alone, and he hadn’t even clocked in yet. Rhys was drawing attention like he was drawing their aim, and he was killing it.

For two months he’d been the lowest he’d ever been. Even rock bottom wasn’t Hyperion’s lowest, and Rhys had been sure he’d have to claw his way up from the beginning all over again. The only reason Vasquez hadn’t demoted him to janitorial was because R&D still needed to produce results, something Vasquez had no experience with. Unfortunately, if there’s one thing Vasquez does excel at, it’s fucking people, because he’s a dick.

For two months, Rhys had handed off everything he’d created over to Vasquez, so the department head could ‘sign off’ on it. It had been standard procedure since before Henderson, but at least Henderson had let Rhys keep his name on the prototypes. For two months, Rhys had been letting Vasquez take the credit for his minor accomplishments, but that was all about to change. He'd created something exceptional, and he wasn't about to let Vasquez take credit for any part of it. 

Rhys doesn’t even knock, just pushes straight through the doors. The cool darkness of the office seems less expensive now, as if it had been cheapened somehow. The scent of Vasquez’ new cologne is overpowering, but Rhys isn’t petty enough to comment, especially when it’s the same one he’s wanted to buy for months. Vasquez is in an echo-call trying for the twentieth time to rally together some sort of deal down on Pandora. He’d been trying to keep it from falling apart all month. He lowers his voice, and hastens to put the call on silent.

“Fake?! No, Hyperion isn’t interested. Well, if they're gone, so is your cut”. Rhys doesn’t appreciate this interruption slowing his roll, but accepts the opportunity to look superiorly bored. Rhys feigns examining his nails because he knows how it makes him look. He quickly switches hands when he realises that he’s been looking at the nail-less nubs of his robotic hand. Vasquez pulls his echo comm from his ear, holding it right up to his mouth to shout into it. “Listen, August. You can make like a gust of wind - and blow me!” Vasquez aggressively ends the echo-call. Rhys thinks that the man mouths something under his breath, before turning to Rhys with a rodent’s grin.

“Rhysie, baby”. Rhys clenches his jaw, before he can surrender to gnashing out something that unflatters them both. “What do you want?”

“It’s my latest project, finished it last night. Just need you to sign off on it”. Vasquez takes a seat in his chair. Leaning his elbows on the desk, and steepling his fingers. Rhys wants to tear off that pathetic gold pinkie.

“So? Send it to me, I’ll get to it later”.

“It’s been a week since the last project, we need to at least get it under pending”. The words scrape past Rhys’ teeth on the way out of his mouth. The project has no chance making it to production without the head of R&D’s signature.

“I said, I’ll get to it lay–tor”.

Vasquez stares at him silently, elbows on his desk, index fingers pressed to the thin crease of his pallid lips. Rhys stares back, fingers digging into his hips, as if to hold his own body from lunging forward. Vasquez narrows his eyes. Rhys raises an eyebrow. Vasquez blinks. Rhys’ metaphorical trigger finger itches.

Rhys brings up the files, and reluctantly sends them to Vasquez’ monitor. Before he hits send, he plucks one of the save files from the packet for safe keeping. Anyone who has half a brain would be able to see that there was something missing. Luckily, Vasquez’ skull was so full of hair plugs, there wasn’t much room left for grey matter.

“I’ve already had logistics and accounting run over it for cost of production,” Rhys lies. “With your signature, I can send it straight up to be approved by higher management”. Rhys hopes that the promise of a completed project coming from the department will be enough to convince Vasquez to sign it sooner. Vasquez only pretends to ignore him, and shoos Rhys away when his echo bleeps with another incoming call.

The office doors fall shut behind Rhys with a satisfying clunk, and in a sick parallel of his humiliation a few weeks ago, his bro is waiting for him on the other side.

“How’d it go?” Vaughn looks too nervous to truly pull off the reassuring smile he’s attempting. Rhys lets his shoulders hang for a second as he sighs, but picks himself up again. He just has to remember the work he’s put in. His good mood was still salvageable.

“As well as you’d expect. Vasquez wouldn’t sign the schematics now, because he’s a grade-A dong, but I think he’ll do it before tonight”. He lets that optimism soak into his chest, and he feels his mood lighten even further. He punches Vaughn’s shoulder lightly. “We’re moving on up, buddy. We had a little bit of a setback, but from here on out, it’s straight on up”.

“You designed the schematics, and wrote all the code. You’re going up”. Vaughn laughs, uncharacteristically morose. Rhys cuts that short immediately.

“Hey, who calculated cost of materials? Predicted profit margins, and revenue? Without you, this project wouldn’t have even gotten off the kitchen floor after it fell into the apartment drunk off its ass”. Rhys lays a heavy hand across his friend’s shoulders, squeezing him close briefly, as they walk to get lunch. Vaughn’s guilt and worry softens. “Together we can cut out four whole production departments. Forget the middlemen, once this gets approved by Vasquez and it’s in the system, we can both take it straight up to the tippy-top. To Handsome Jack himself”. Vaughn gives a not entirely mock shiver next to him.

“Can we settle for just taking it to the general board of directors?” Rhys laughs.

“Yeah man, okay. Straight up to the almost top”.

“Bro, When will you admit that your obsession with him is more than a crush?”

“Shut up, bro”.

A day passes without word from Vasquez. Rhys is just about to march to his office to pressure him to sign off on the project when a call comes through on his echo. He tries to ignore it twice, but it’s listed as a high priority, and it connects anyway. Rhys’ heart skips a beat when he sees the caller ID, and with a soft gasp he switches it to silent.

“Hello valued employee”. Handsome Jack’s pre-recorded voice plays straight into Rhys’ mind. “I demand your presence in my office at your earliest convenience. As your employment will be terminated if you do not arrive within the next five minutes, I suggest that now is a convenient time for you, mkay? Handsome Jack, out”. Rhys has had filthy dreams that begin like this.

He takes the express elevator to the CEO’s office, and fiddles with his appearance the entire ride. The elevator is more crowded than he’d expected it to be, but no one is paying attention to anyone else. Among them is a woman that Rhys is sure he’s seen around R&D. She’s reapplying a bright lip that’s the same red as the echo’s critical failure warning. She loosens her updo, letting a few curls hang loose around her face. She looks like she slept her way into middle management, but Rhys isn’t one to judge.

As they all push out of the elevator into the reception, they join even more. All up, there must be about eight people all waiting to see Handsome Jack. Rhys wonders if these others are in higher positions than himself. They don’t look it, but Rhys refrains from speaking to any of them, deciding to save all his schmoosing for the big boss.

He wonders if Vasquez seriously signed off on the proposal with so little cajoling, and spends long minutes fantasizing that his proposal has already caught the attention of the CEO. The designs were inspired, even if he is biased, but the best aspect of them hadn’t even been in the schematics that he’d submitted.

The pretty but emotionless receptionist continued to call people in. One by one, Rhys watched them pull open the large office doors, and step inside. After about half an hour of admittedly distracted patience, he notices something peculiar. A single one had yet to come back out.

“Rhys from Rn’D”. The receptionist calls, and Rhys swallows suddenly feeling a lot more nervous about this summons.

Even the receptionist seemed more heartless than a few minutes ago. He pulls up a holographic of his ID for her, but she only nods and gestures to the doors. They too, looked a lot more imposing. They were huge, and anticipating their weight, Rhys pulls sturdily on the handle. Forgetting his cybernetics.

The door swings open so fast, he almost knocks himself out. He quickly spins out of the way, and into the office. Freezing over the threshold. He grimaces at having already made a fool of himself. Rhys breathes deep, gathering his composure, and pulls the door softly closed behind him. The room is cool, dim, and silent at his back. When he turns, Rhys feels a vacuum spawn in his lungs, as his breath leaves them.

Backlit by the light of Pandora, is Handsome Jack. There is officially nothing, but a seeming lack of oxygen, between Rhys, and his obses– the man that he admires. Rhys feels the urge to fidget when the silence stretches, but it doesn’t feel right that he should speak first.

“Well?” Jack asks, sounding exasperated, but he continues before Rhys can respond. “Get over here”. Rhys startles a little, but manages to cross the office. Jack is leant up against his desk, arms crossed, studying his employee. “Rhys was it?” Rhys can only nod, because he’s choking on the fact that Handsome Jack just said his name. “You been busy, Rhys? Down in,” Jack looks down at a monitor on his desk. “Rn’D?” Remembering his project, and mustering his determination, Rhys finds his voice.

“Yes, if you’ve had time to read my latest proposal, then I’d like…” Jack cuts him off tutting, waving a hand in dismissal, and briefly closing his eyes.

“Says here, you haven’t submitted anything in two months, Rhys. What kind of name is Rhys?” Jack mutters the last part, and Rhys is too busy being awestruck to be offended.

“It must still be pending with my head of department. If,” Rhys chuckles nervously, and he hopes it might just come off as charming. “If not for my prototype, then why am I here?”

“I’m sooo glad you asked that, pumpkin”. Jack pushes off his desk, throwing an arm around Rhys’ shoulders. It felt menacing, it felt like a threat, it was sexy as hell. Jack guides him over to the large window at the back of his office, and for a moment neither says anything, just looking out at the planet below.

“It’s so big”. Rhys’ teeth click shut, trying to stop himself from sticking the rest of his foot in his mouth.

“It is,” Jack chuckles from beside him. “And, it’s all ours”. Rhys turns his head to gape at the CEO beside him. The man’s arm is still wrapped securely around Rhys’ shoulders, and Rhys thinks that he must have gone and brained himself on the door after all, because this couldn’t be real.

Jack speaks while looking down upon the planet with an expression of vague annoyance and disgust. “See, Pandora belongs to every Hyperion employee who pulls their weight, because that’s the only way that we’ll be able to take it from those bandits down there”. Rhys can’t look away from the man beside him, and Jack seems to notice, because he looks at the younger man and smirks. Rhys blushes. “You see Rhysie, I’ve noticed that you’ve been having a hard time lately".

"Yeah, hard," Rhys agrees, swallowing dryly as Jack moves to stand a little more behind him.

"Well, I’d like to take a little of the weight from your shoulders.” Jack begins firmly massaging both of said shoulders. One hand moving closer to Rhys’ neck to avoid his cybernetic arm. “I’d like to help make all your problems drift away…”

“Ah! I mean, thank you. That would be… uh”. Rhys swallows a noise when Jack’s warm hands find a knot in his muscles, and he tries not to melt. When he leans back into the touch, looking over his shoulder at the other man, Handsome Jack is smirking at him. It’s fulfilling so many of Rhys’ fantasies, but he doesn’t understand why he’d deserve this kind of attention if not for his prototype. Rhys looks down, no longer captivated by Jack or Pandora, and he only has a moment to register what it all means. Jack whispers in his ear, and it makes Rhys shiver.

“You see cupcake, you’re deadweight”. By the time Rhys sees that warning-red lipstick, contrasted by her pale lifeless skin, it’s too late. Handsome Jack is shoving him forward, and his body is caught by the pull of air that’s sucked through the sudden break in the glass. Jack’s laughter barely heard over the whoosh of oxygen being sucked into the vacuum with him.

In retrospect, Rhys didn’t have such a good feeling about today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd rather wait until after sober me has beta'd this, then you'll only have to wait a day or two. If not, then all I can ask is that you be forgiving. Hope you enjoy.

The device Rhys had borrowed activates automatically upon the sudden pressure change. It warms his body gently, and there’s a humid heat against his neck. It keeps his body both from freezing, and from burning up in the radiation, but Rhys waits to activate the breathing support. There’s a chance that Jack is still observing the theatrics of his terror, and Rhys decides to hold his breath for as long as he is able.

The feeling of drifting like this, weightless, with nothing to anchor himself is harrowing. Rhys is helpless against the panic that washes over him, as he floats further and further from Helios. When his lungs are burning, he finally activates the regulator, and a luminescent veil allows him to take his next breath. Now that he can, Rhys breathes through the panic. What’s left after several minutes is pure, unfettered awe.

As his breathing settles, a bubble of manic joy finds its way from his lips, and he giggles at the vast eternity he faces. He's far enough out for the distance to be uncomfortable, but with Elpis glowing to his right, and thousands of shimmering stars strung across his vision, it’s hard not to bask in the expanse’s existential wonder. Rhys feels like a fucking god.

He taps the toe of his left shoe to the heel of his right, before switching feet and doing the same. Afterall, his new skag-skin boots weren’t just for show. The soles begin to emit a soft blue glow. He feels the heels steady against nothing, and when he pushes away, he glides forward.

He’s shaky at first, but once he gets the hang of it, Rhys is having fun. Propelled around in chaotic patterns. Gliding and skating the edges of Helios, he starts a slow, arcing corkscrew. Elpis leaves his vison, as stars slide into view.

Even Pandora looks stunning. It always has from Helios, but now it looked so much more vast. Even from the largest windows on Helios, even from the view in Handsome Jack’s office, it had been framed in. Out here, everything just kept expanding, in every direction, all around him. Rhys stops to float a moment, looking at the planet. It’s so close, and so large that even stretching his hands to his sides, his fingertips don’t touch the horizons.

‘Deadweight’ Jack had called him, and for a moment it makes Rhys wince with shame. His excitement had almost made him forget how he’d ended up out here. Even as weightless as he is now, Rhys feels the burden upon his shoulders. He’s got ambitions, and they weigh more than the last two months’ worth of disappointments combined. Today came close to tipping the scale, but Rhys’ salvation has lit a fire under his feet. He looks down at his modified dress boots, glowing softly with power. His prototype has been his life for the past fortnight, and it proved worthy when it saved his life today. Rhys is sure, now more than ever, that this was going to work.

He’s got a good feeling about this.

Rhys drifts a moment longer, before deciding to make his way back. He creeps along the seams between Helios’ floors, floating out of sight of its many windows, making sure not to be seen. Using his echo, he brings up Helios’ schematics and locates his best friend’s office. Peeking in through the window, Rhys can see that Vaughn is alone, working hard. In more than one sense.

Vaughn’s switched out his desk for an exercise bike, and is peddling like nobody’s business. Coming fully into view, Rhys knocks heavily on the glass, and laughs when his friend looks up, almost falling off the bike. Rhys throws up some finger guns, winking, as he slowly mimes moon walking across Vaughn’s window. Vaughn’s gape disappears, but silence still reigns as his friend’s mouth starts moving frantically. Rhys brings up a connection on his echo comm.

“…going to get back inside. Rhys, I told you to let me know when you were doing testing! Are they working okay?”

“Yeah, they work great. They are way easier to control than the packs, and I think I might’ve already found a target market for them”. Rhys shivers slightly, knowing that if he were just to glance upwards, he’d see some ex-potential customers.

“So, why do you look like you got tangled in your tie again?” Rhys sighs, and it comes through the echo as a sad, embarrassed, little crackle.

“The word you’re looking for is, heartbroken. Bro, it’s a long – well, it’s a story. Just let me get back into artificial gravity first. Can you meet me in fifteen?” 

“Handsome Jack!?” Vaughn yells as best as he can in a whisper.

“Vasquez didn’t submit the proposal yesterday, and ‘officially’ I haven’t produced anything since he got ‘promoted’,” Rhys sighs.

“Oh, so…” Vaughn waits patiently, seeing his friend’s sombre expression. Rhys pushes a glacé cherry around the bowl of his melted ice-cream. The high of his near-death experience wearing off fast, and he was beginning to feel a little numb. Rhys wasn’t sure how he could just go back to his normal life now that he wasn’t even supposed to be alive. 

He could go back to work. No one had bothered to terminate his employment, and all his details were still in Helios’ system. All there was to distinguish him from an active employee was a small checkbox that declared him an active employee. He supposes it’s convenient in a company with so many ‘accidents’. The AI meant to take care of employee registers had rage quit, spectacularly, years ago. All that was left of it for Rhys to find was a line of mangled code that hadn’t even covered the possibility of airlock incidents. All he had to do to re-activate his employee status was a little baby bit of hacking to re-check the box.

“Apparently there’s about two months leeway for employee unproductivity before the CEO gets to fire… you…”. Vaughn’s chair screeches against the floor, as he rounds the table to sit next to Rhys, pulling him into a hug. Something in Rhys’ brain starts whirring, and he doesn’t think it’s his cybernetics.

“I’m so glad you’re alive, bro”. Vaughn mumbles, his cheek squished to the top of Rhys’ head. He’s messing up Rhys’ hair with one hand, the other holding onto him with an unexpected amount of strength. Rhys is sure he’s got something for this, something about being strangled – by pythons, but the moment is almost too pure to spoil, and he’s distracted by a different punchline altogether.

“Do you remember those rumours that ex-employees get incinerated?” Rhys asks, a small, distant smile on his face, as Vaughn continues to pet his hair.

“Our contracts state that Hyperion isn’t responsible for our safety after employment has been terminated,” Vaughn confirms.

“They do?” Rhys asks, and Vaughn pulls back with a disappointed sigh.

“Of course, you didn’t read it”.

“Those rumours have been circulating, for what, years?”. Vaughn pulls away, a look of confusion and incredulity making Rhys’ smile brighten further at the idea.

“What are you thinking, Rhys?”

“I’m not going to bother hassling Vasquez; he’ll pull his head out of his ass eventually. Or get airlocked himself, and then I become head of R’nD. Until then, I get personal one-on-ones with Handsome Jack! I'm thinking that it’s a win-win-win!”

“Rhys, that’s insane”. Vaughn hurriedly tries to convince him, seeing the stubborn, entertained determination settling into his friend’s features. “What if he recognises you?” Rhys lets his head fall to his shoulder, and raises an eyebrow sardonically. “Okay, we’re just faceless peons, but what if next time, he decides to use bullets?” Rhys straightens, shrugging unconcerned.

“He won’t,” Rhys claims decisively.

“How do you know?”

“I just have a good feeling”. Rhys plucks the cherry from his bowl, and pops it in his mouth, winking at his buddy. Vaughn just shakes his head in disbelieving hopelessness.

“Rhys from R’nD”. Handsome Jack’s receptionist calls, before scrunching up her nose at the familiar phrase. Rhys chuckles, waving his employee portal open, and pretending to read some schematics to avoid her scrutiny. He approaches the large office doors, nervousness and excitement mixing in his stomach. It feels suspiciously like horniness. Breathing out, like a performer about to begin, Rhys affixes a cocky smirk to his lips. He goes for pizazz, pulling both doors open together, and doesn’t wait, before strutting across the office. His bravado faulters, just for a second, seeing that sharp silhouette again, but he picks his rhythm back up. Rhys can already tell that the other man doesn’t recognise him. He would be hurt if his life didn’t depend on it.

“Rhys from Research and Development, at your service”. Should he bow? No. Too lame. Fuck, he’s already doing it. Okay, just follow through. Once Rhys straightens himself, he straightens his tie. He attempts to make a fluid transition into some flirtatious small talk, but Jack interrupts him.

“Let me stop you there, cupcake”. Jack pushes off his desk, and starts a slow swagger toward him. Rhys swallows, a brief moment of doubt draining his confidence, and he’s terrified that Jack has recognised him. He thinks that if the last thing he sees is Handsome Jack’s lazy smirk as the man’s hips sashay toward him, then it’s not a bad way to die. His tie is a lost cause now, having crumpled it with both nerves and excitement.

Jack walks right up to him, and he coaxes the tie from Rhys’ fist. Rhys drops his arms, as Handsome Jack’s hands go up to around his neck, Rhys’ eyes flutter shut. This is it. He’s been recognised. Jack is going to strangle him to make absolute sure that Rhys stays dead this time. Fingers brush against the hair at the back of his neck, and he feels Jack straighten his collar. Then, Rhys’ eyes are flashing open, because Jack is leaning in close to tighten his tie before setting his heavy palms on Rhys’ shoulders.

“I want to show you something”. The sigh that leaves Rhys’ lungs is full of silent relief, as Jack turns him around, and guides him over to stand before the widowed view of Pandora. “What do you think?”

Ideally, Rhys could use his answer to steer the conversation back to pitching his prototype. If he chooses his words well, he might be able to turn this execution into an executive opportunity. Either way, Rhys knows better than to answer with something boring, they could be his last words after all.

“I think,” Rhys begins, biting his lip, and turning a little in Jack’s grasp to look into the CEO’s eyes. He can’t help tilting his head just enough so that he’s looking up at them through his lashes. “That with the right tech, Pandora wouldn’t be quite so far away”.

“You wouldn’t like it much if it were any closer, trust me, cupcake”. Jack shrugs, like he both does, and doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. Feeling a little bit of his fanboyish nerves about to get the best of him, Rhys distracts himself by running his hand through his hair. Jack watches the movement closely, but Rhys misses the attention.

“I do trust you”. Rhys does trust Jack – to be predictable that is.

“It’s a shame to waste such a pretty face,” Jack mutters, and Rhys is trying to look adequately terrified, whilst trying to think something other than, Handsome Jack thinks I’m pretty. “You see, kitten, you’re deadweight.” A small whimper escapes Rhys and he claps a hand over his mouth. Jack smiles viciously at the fear he’s induced, wrapping an arm around Rhys’ waist, until the man at his mercy falls apart laughing. Rhys knows what’s about to happen, but can’t bring himself to feel heartbroken this time, too lightheaded with relief.

Handsome Jack - a serial punchline recycler. Rhys only just manages to get his breathing under control, before he’s floating away from Helios, and away from Handsome Jack’s puzzled expression.

Rhys has a good feeling about this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, as you may have seen I got distracted by the Witcher fandom, then by the Hamilton fandom which turned into another Rhack fic. Hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and thanks for reading.

“Rhys from Rn’– wait”. Jack’s receptionist stops him with an iron grip around his arm when he tries to pass her into Jack’s office. She narrows her eyes, and purses her lips. Rhys’ responding grin-and-wink combo is as charming as it is nervous. After close inspection, her stoic expression thins ever so slightly, and she gives a light chuckle, shaking her head. She seems amused, even sympathetic, and Rhys tries his luck.

“If I tell you my trick, promise not to say anything?”

“Your trick is going to get you killed – eventually – I want nothing to do with it”. Despite her cold words, her tone is warm, and she waves him off before going to sit back down behind her desk. Smart woman, Rhys thinks. It probably says something about him, as he leaves her to face his mortality once again.

...

“What kind of name is Rh-woah. Déjà vu”. Jack is standing as close to Rhys as possible, without either of them actually touching. The man looks like he’s never experienced the same moment twice before, let alone used the same punchline. “Have we met before?”

“Is that your best line?” Rhys smirks, and Jack gives him a considering look. Rhys has to focus to hold eye-contact as Jack smirks crookedly. Rhys thought it would get easier to hold up under Jack’s scrutiny. He’d thought he’d slip into devout staring at least, but now, every time he tries to look at Jack, a laugh threatens to slip through his grin. Rhys focuses so hard on not laughing at Jack that he sneezes in Jack’s face – it gets him airlocked.

...

“Go take a look out the window”. Rhys hums a moment, eyes locking with Jack’s. He lets his eyelashes flutter as he responds.

“I think I prefer this view”.

...

“It’s about time I got a raise!” Jack’s eyebrows shoot upward at Rhys’ demanding tone. Rhys walks straight over to the window, not bothering to stop before Jack, while trying to look as disinterested as possible. He watches Jack in the reflection of the glass, and makes sure that he doesn’t reach for a weapon, but the other man doesn’t move. After a moment, surprise having passed, Jack laughs darkly. It’s such a complicated sound, and it makes something shatter inside Rhys’ chest before the pieces flutter down into his stomach.

...

“I’m telling you, Vaughn. He’s so strong!”. Rhys gestures with his fork, dropping bits of salad into his lap. Vaughn groans, taking off his glasses, and letting his head fall to the table. Concern for his friend’s wellbeing stretching thin, but never exhausted.

“Rhys, please stop”.

...

“The view is breathtaking,” Rhys tries desperately not to laugh at his own joke.

“It’ll be even better with you in it”. Jack’s voice is sultry, but Rhys knows better. He loses the battle when he looks up at Jack’s face. Jack’s clenched-jaw grin is vicious. It’s all teeth, and Rhys knows that the CEO is trying not to laugh too.

“I bet you say that to all the boys”.

...

“If you try to leave your desk one more time, robo-twink, I’ll chain you to it”. Rhys flashes Vasquez his most falsely sincere, snide expression.

“What will Handsome Jack think about that? I can’t refuse a summons from our CEO”. Vasquez looks skeptical, until Rhys brings up the call-log on his palm. Rhys can smell the insecurity coming off of Vasquez, like a spider-ant smells fear.

“That’s three this week!” He doesn’t allow Vasquez any more time to ask questions. Whatever conclusions he comes to himself will still make him jealous.

“I better not be late”. Rhys smirks, and sets off at a jaunty stride.

...

“He’s in a rat-rotten mood today, Rhys,” Lisa, Jack’s receptionist, warns. Rhys struts into the CEO’s office, only stopping once he’s perched on the edge of Jack’s desk. Jack looks up at him, clearly irritated.

“Hey Handsome, you come here often?” Rhys gasps, as he’s lifted up over the man’s solid shoulders, one strong hand on his ass. Airlocked. Rhys still chuckles when he thinks about it.

...

“Pretty face like yours, would look great under a hat”. Rhys isn’t sure if that’s a compliment, or not. Considering that Jack has called him pretty six times now, he thinks it might be. “Do a spin for me, kitten”. Rhys, bewildered, obliges. Jack is sat languidly stretched out in his chair, he doesn’t look particularly cognizant, and Rhys wonders if today is the day that Jack gets tired of his own joke, and just shoots from the hip instead. “Or maybe not, it’d hide that hair”.

Jack has also implied on two separate occasions that Rhys must be terrible in bed, ‘a deadweight’. Rhys only blushes knowing that Jack must have been thinking about it, and now Rhys is thinking about it - again. He doesn’t even get airlocked this time. He looks bemusedly at Lisa on his way out, as she chuckles at his dopey expression. He gets called back in the very next day.

...

Rhys leans back on the glass of the window, and sucks in a quiet rush of breath as Jack approaches.

They’re close, and Rhys knows that Jack has to lean in past him to press the panel that opens the airlock. Jack is leaning further and further into him. Rhys tilts his head to the side, and closes his eyes.

“I’ll make you feel lighter than air”. Jack’s words are a weak warmth against his cheek. Rhys let’s himself imagine, just for a moment that this isn’t what it is.

...

“Wait! Hold the elevator!” Rhys just gets his cybernetic hand in the doors as they close, and uses its strength to pry them back open to slip through. There’s a sound of collective derision, as the elevator’s occupants scoff and tut. A man let’s his hand fall from where he’d been furiously pressing the button to close the doors. The grumbling is startled silent by one teeth-grindingly recognisable voice.

“Rhys! I think you’re on the wrong elevator, sweet cheeks. This elevator is going up”. Rhys doesn’t bother turning to look toward the voice, just facing the wrong direction might trigger a finger-gun kill box.

“Vasquez,” Rhys declares as if he’s surprised, yet thoroughly unentertained. Facing away, Vasquez doesn’t see his spiteful grin. “Did you finally get a summons too?”. Rhys is going to moonwalk on the jerk’s frozen corpse.

“Special invitation, actually. To look over a new prototype.” Rhys cringes at the smugness in Vasquez’ voice, as he threatens to drown him in it. Then, the words sink in too.

“Son of a skag”. He whispers contemptuously under his breath, just as the elevator announces that they have arrived. It had only been a matter of time, but Rhys didn’t think the schematics would get the attention of the CEO without the parts he’d taken out.

Waiting in the lobby, Rhys eyes the large briefcase Vasquez is carrying. He can’t believe the idiot created a prototype. Vasquez wasn’t dumb enough to build something that he didn’t understand, he must have had someone else build and explain the schematics.

Vasquez is leaning against the desk, flirting with Lisa over his shoulder with a smug confidence he doesn’t deserve. He looks down to finger his tie, mid-boast, and she looks past him to roll her eyes at Rhys. Rhys raises a hand to his head, and pulls the trigger. He’s not sure if he’s asking to be put out of his own misery, or for Vasquez to be put out of his.

Assuming Vasquez had, in his hands, a functioning prototype for what would be a perfect pitch, Rhys can’t help but feel the sting of his pride having been stolen from him. He tells himself that it won’t be long. He’d taken precautions for exactly this situation. Mere minutes, and he’d have his revenge. Even if it meant it would put an end to his private meetings with Jack.

Rhys watches as the parade of deadweight walks into Jack’s office, one by one, not to return. He watches at Vasquez fails to notice it. It’s just the two of them left when Vasquez gets called in. Rhys is surprised, sure that he’d be the last of the deadweight to go in before Vasquez, and he’d hoped to undercut Vasquez’s whole long-winded pitch, by presenting his first.

“That’s Mr. head of R&D, buttercup”. Vasquez announces when Lisa calls him in to see Jack. Vasquez winks at Rhys as he opens the door, and Rhys mimics it sarcastically, but Vasquez has already closed the door behind himself. Rhys walks up to Lisa’s desk to perch himself on the edge. She swats his thigh for it, but he doesn’t move.

“So, what’s Jack wearing today?”

“Rhys, this has to stop,” She sighs heavily. “The last time I cried I was fourteen, and my hamster had just died. I’m not going to get killed by Jack, just because you remind me of my dead hamster”. Rhys’ hand goes to his chest, and his eyebrows dip as his eyes become shiny.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me”. Lisa shakes her head, and Rhys chuckles before becoming serious. “This is the last time,” he sighs. “That walking toupee that’s in there now is my boss. He thinks his prototype is going to impress Jack, and since he’s been called here for it, it must mean that Jack has realised that there’s something missing. Something that’s missing because I have it, because they’re my schematics”.

“That missing piece better be pretty impressive, Rhys”. Lisa’s low voice has dropped to a sympathetic murmur. Rhys only grins at her.

“You know it is”. She sighs, and then looks up at him with her most serious cut-throat expression.

“He’s wearing his good pants. The tight ones, as you put it”. Rhys fist-pumps.

They’re interrupted by noise coming from Jack’s office. There’s muffled yelling, and a high-pitched mechanical whine, like someone torturing a claptrap. It’s slowly getting louder.

Rhys knows that sound. Remembers it from his first week working with eridium. Remembers it from just before he’d been thrown against a wall in the R&D labs, as his first prototype blew through three-inch thick shock proof glass. The same kind of glass that makes up the majority of Helios’ exterior.

“Seal the doors as soon as I’m through”. Rhys yells at Lisa, as he’s pulling open the doors. She mightn’t have trusted him, if it hadn’t been for the weeks of Rhys pining over Jack across her desk. She nods curtly, expression deathly serious, and Rhys slips through the door. He hears the shush of the atmospheric seal, and the small clunk of the lock. When he turns Jack has a gun shoved between Vasquez’s eyes and he’s growling at him to activate the failsafe.

“Failsafe?” Vasquez is whimpering, and Rhys realises that neither of the two men had taken more than a cursory skim of his schematics. Otherwise Jack would have known something was wrong.

“It doesn’t have one!” Rhys yells over the prototype’s high-pitched whine kicking up another octave, and Vasquez’ along with it. It didn’t have one, because it’s written into the part of the schematics that Rhys had kept secret. The entirety of the office is a lifetime between them, and Rhys knows he won’t be able to run it in time. “Don’t move!”

He activates his prototype, the functional ones, with less than a full thought, and runs a program to make all the necessary calculations. Then, Rhys takes a step.

Well, he takes the closest thing to a step that he can take outside of the metaphysical. His vision shifts, and he feels every cubic nanometre of his being dislocate from the physical plane. His skin feels loose, then the concept of existence feels loose. Rhys feels – weightless.

When the sole of his boot leaves the ground, he watches as reality is shredded apart around him. In that singular instance, Rhys exists everywhere all at once. Every conceivable phase of his existence is spilling out across the room, and all he has to do is condense himself down into one of them. He picks the phase closest to the other man, without phasing into him. Then, the haze of existence re-focuses, and he’s there next to Jack.

Rhys manages to catch him with a deathly grip on his jacket, and pushes the regulator with a little too much force into the other man’s jugular. The regulator mask appears immediately, the rough treatment activating it in the process. He slams his palm down on the hidden glass panel, and opens the airlock.

There’s a yell from Jack, before all that Rhys can hear is the roar of the air molecules around them being pulled apart to be lost to the expanse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably laughed at "robo-twink" for a whole three minutes. I have no regrets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you all for being so patient. Things are chaotic at the moment, as they are for everyone. I hope this serves to make your day a bit fluffier. Thank you to everyone for reading this far, your kudos and comments have been so supportive and are very much cherished. You're all amazing. Enjoy.

Rhys looks up at Jack’s furious expression, as weightlessness takes them both. Jack’s eyes are narrowed, as the shock fades leaving nothing but indignance, but then his eyes are sliding over Rhys’ face and to somewhere over his left shoulder. If it weren’t for Jack, Rhys wouldn’t have noticed it growing brighter. The light reflects so intensely off of the regulator that he has to force his eyes shut and tilt his face away.

A shockwave ripples through them, and Rhys only feels it because of the moment if pushes his body against Jack’s. His grip tightens. Something heavy hits his back, but he keeps his jaw locked, and it sends them spinning away. When he opens his eyes again, there’s drops of blood floating up around them, and the dull heat of pain between his shoulder blades, but Jack’s expression is less murderous – bordering on contemplation. Rhys kicks the heel of each of his boots, no time to spare in getting them back to the station. His record for holding his breath now was three minutes at most. He just needs to push past the black spots simmering in his vision. They’d have to get back in through some way other than the hole in Jack’s office. An error appears in his vision – Helios network not found.

They drift. Nothing below the soles of Rhys’ skag-skin boots. His precious prototypes that had saved him countless times now. Pieces of the satellite’s debris drifts past them. The hologram in his palm twitches the spasms of a dying interface. They’re just on the fringes of the grid, he’s just twenty feet from not suffocating to death, but that distance was growing. Rhys knows that Hyperion would send someone for Jack, but they wouldn’t come in time for Rhys. Pandora looms to their right, as if setting on the horizon of his existence. Despite everything, Rhys honestly hadn’t expected it to end like this.

He can’t help pressing close. It’s the only way he isn’t going to freeze to death in the bitching cold of space. Even if it might be preferable to suffocating. Everything is silent, even the small explosion now billowing from one of the top limbs of Helios, fuelled by the recycled oxygen now pouring into the vacuum of space.

Rhys’ lungs are already begging him to try to take a breath. He blinks long and slow, frozen moisture fractals forming on his lashes. There’s a gentle warmth from the regulator, but it’s struggling to cover all of their mass, and it’s too diluted to be comfortable. Rhys wants to soak up the feeling of being held tightly by Jack, he thinks that he doesn’t really have much to lose. These will probably be his last minutes alive after all. Rhys opens his eyes, but not to look at Jack. Instead he looks back toward Helios.

Rhys blinks, and more tears freeze to his lashes. His eyes are unseeing, half-lidded and heavy as he thinks about his life. Vaughn. Everything they’d worked for – everything he’d had. Jack. Everything he’d wanted. There’re fingers in his hair, it’s the only thing he can really feel now, a hand cradling the back of his head, and it’s pulling him forward. A humid warmth washes over his face, and Jack’s calm, low timbre speaks low into his ear.

“Breathe, Rhysie”. Rhys’ eyes open wide, as he pants close to the other man’s neck, Jack having pulled him into the blue halo of the regulator. “I’m not going to let you die this time, cupcake, not a chance. I’ve got you”.

Rhys lets himself take small, gulps of breath that come out desperate, and shivery from the cold. He’s lightheaded, but gradually the fog lifts and the only numbness he can feel is where the skin meets the freezing metal of his prosthetics.

“When?” He gasps out, not able to spare the breath for anymore words. The sudden sound doesn’t seem to faze Jack even when it’s spoken almost directly into his ear. The other man’s hand continues to press down along Rhys’ spine in broad strokes with a heavy pressure that Rhys feels through his layers.

“Y’know, I’m not sure. No point remembering a pretty face if they’re deadweight. The first time I saw you I thought, here’s a kid who’s never had to work at anything”. Rhys is too cold to blush, and too insulted to play at abashed.

“You have no idea how hard I’ve had to work”. His teeth chatter slightly on the last few words.

“You’re wrong, kiddo. It was the third or fourth time, I saw this look on you, like you wanted to try take me on just to see if you could. Airlocked you then and there. Realised after that it reminded me of me”. Rhys tries to look at Jack, but Jack’s hand on the back of his head keeps him from turning. Probably, for the best, or Rhys might try and suck the extra air from the other man’s lungs.

“Still didn’t recognise me though,” Rhys huffs, amused.

“Started to,” Jack argues. “Suddenly every smart-mouth fan-boy that ended up in my office reminded me of the one I regretted air-locking. Tried giving them a chance, but in the end, they were always deadweight”.

“I was just holding out on you,” Rhys sighs as he sees the rescue shuttle in the distance drifting purposefully closer.

“You mean you were being a tease”. Jack punctuates his words by grabbing a handful of ass-cheek. He laughs when Rhys yelps. “Oh pumpkin, if only I’d known what you were capable of”.

“You wouldn’t have airlocked me?” Jack’s voice sounds even closer as it drops into a low hum.

“I would have had you pressed up against that glass the first time. Would have made you work so hard”. Rhys swallows dryly and chuckles nervously. Jack’s hand has resumed its sweeping up and down Rhys’ spine, avoiding the injury after Rhys flinches on one pass.

Rhys is glad for the lack of gravity because his legs are weak. They’re speaking into each other’s ears in low voices, and Rhys knows Jack can hear how his breath hitches every time his fingers sweep low and press into the small of his back. “How about you teleport us back inside, and we can get down to business?”

“It’s not teleporting; I call in phase-stepping. Uh, I could try, but we might end up inside each other”.

“Is that a promise, kitten?” Jack growls and that hand finally sweeps low enough to dig fingers into the muscle of his ass again. Rhys moans.

“Yes. I mean, no. I, we might become permanently fused together, or stuck in the one body”. Jack makes a noise, both appalled and amused.

“Yeah that might be a little too intimate,” he chuckles. Rhys hums, as he finally gives in to the temptation to brush his lips lightly across Jack’s jawline. “Oh, that’s nice, kitten. Have you caught your breath yet?”

“Yeah, ‘m better now,” he murmurs against Jack’s jaw. A hand brushes across Rhys’ cheek, and then Jack is turning his face ever so slightly.

“Good,” he whispers. Then, Jack’s lips are pressing against his, and Rhys is sighing into the kiss. He isn’t sure if he’s shellshocked or starstruck, but kissing Jack feels like the opposite of weightlessness. The other man has a gravity that is inescapable, and is only fuelled by the immeasurability of Rhys’ devotion. This kiss was radioactive, it was implosive.

This was the kind of kiss that shook stars.

It was inevitable now, that together they’d become infinite, but for now it was so very delicate. The sound of Rhys’ echo resurrecting itself has Jack pulling away the few inches between them. The shuttle is close enough now that Helios’ network signal is being boosted off of it. The doors of the shuttle are opening, bathing them in warm, yellow light, and Rhys uses his boots to guide them into the bay.

“Steady now, pumpkin”. Jack’s hands keep Rhys from stumbling as they step into artificial gravity, and then guides him over to a table that the medical team has prepped. He waves them off, demanding that they see to Rhys. Rhys rolls onto his stomach, and hardly cares when they cut through his shirt and jacket to assess his injury. Then, someone is tugging at his boots. Rhys flinches, and is about to yell at them to keep their hands off his prototype, but Jack is the one doing the tugging.

“They have zippers,” Rhys offers, before laying back down on the table and letting the medics work. Jack manages to get the boot free.

“Cute socks, dork”. Rhys closes his eyes, and hides his blush in an elbow. “Why not keep the operational systems local? Then, you wouldn’t have to rely on being connected to the network.”

“Phase-stepping has too many variables to be self-contained. My echo just doesn’t have the computing power to make the calculations when not connected to the network. So, I made the whole system network reliant”. A medic taps Rhys’ shoulder to let him know that they’re finished, and Rhys sits up gingerly. He frowns when his shirt falls forward. “Plus, the design to accommodate that would have been beyond ugly. I refuse to wear ugly”.

“Could have fooled me”. Jack scoffs, and Rhys laughs sarcastically, as he pulls off his ruined layers. A medic hands him a Hyperion yellow t-shirt in a sealed, plastic package. He tears into it, ready with a retort, but when he turns to face Jack the other man is distracted. Rhys waits a moment to pull on his shirt, watching as Jack’s gaze wanders over his chest, following his tattoos. Jack looks disappointed when they’re hidden again, and Rhys only smirks at him.

Rhys’ echo-comm starts ringing. He spends the rest of the flight back to Helios trying to assure Vaughn that he is fine. When the shuttle finally docks, Rhys hangs up telling him that he would see him at home that evening. Jack pushes him up against the wall of the shuttle as soon as the call disconnects. Somehow, Rhys is sure that Jack is being careful of his injury despite his threatening expression.

“That better not be a boyfriend” he growls, but he inches toward Rhys’ lips even while he says it.

“No! No. A friend, a college friend – a bro”. Jack relaxes instantly, all his sharp edges going soft, but instead of moving away, he seems to melt against Rhys. “He helped make the prototype”. Jack hums appreciatively leaning forward for a swift but gentle kiss.

“Okay, pumpkin. Get some rest,” Jack whispers warmly, but then he’s pulling away, striding through the shuttle doors, and into the halls of Helios. Rhys is left standing there, stunned, his whispered words the only reply he can think to utter.

“He took my boot”.

By the time he staggers back to his apartment, Vaughn has already heard the tale of Handsome Jack heroically saving an employee from an explosive assassination attempt. As soon as Rhys is wrapped up in bed with a warm drink, Vaughn gets to hear Rhys’ version.

“You’re sure he doesn’t still want to kill you?”

“I saved his life, and if he wanted to kill me, he would have done it already”.

“He’s tried to on multiple occasions!” Vaughn yells, panic still simmering.

“Jack’s not going to kill me. He’s obviously interested in the prototype – amongst other things”. Rhys winks, and Vaughn coughs into his own drink making it slosh a little over the sides. Rhys laughs giddily before his voice grows a little more sombre. “He could have let me die, Vaughn, but he didn’t”.

“Okay, Rhys. Somehow, you’ve survived until now, so I’ll trust it”. Vaughn sighs. “For the record, I’m really glad you’re not dead, bro”.

“Thanks bro, me too”.

Rhys gets an echo-call from Lisa congratulating him on his new position as head of R&D, and informing him that he’s not allowed into work for the next three days.

“If I can be a little unprofessional for a moment,” she says in one of the most professional tones Rhys has ever heard. “Thank you. You didn’t have to tell me to seal those doors. I was relieved to hear that you and Jack were okay”.

“Hey, it wasn’t anything you haven’t already done for me”. Rhys shrugs, and there’s only a slight twinge in his shoulder. Rhys had also convinced Jack on the shuttle that if he hadn’t noticed Rhys’ trick then his secretary surely couldn’t have, but he decides that Lisa will sleep easier not knowing this. “Thanks, Lisa”.

“Take care, Rhys. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” she says meaningfully, and ends the call before Rhys can ask her if she knows anything.

Nothing much happens over the next couple days. Rhys hangs out with Vaughn, and spends most of the days buying more expensive suits and ordering furniture for his new office. He stands and laughs for a full five minutes when, by chance and karma’s unsubtle hand, a single gold finger floats past the window.

It isn’t until two days later that he gets a call. His heart skips a beat when he sees the caller ID, and with a soft laugh he switches it to silent.

“Hello, Rhysie”. Handsome Jack’s voice purrs straight into Rhys’ mind. Rhys barely swallows a filthy moan.

“Handsome Jack, how can I serve you?” Rhys’ nose only stings a little when his steel palm hits his face.

“You’ve been working hard haven’t you, pumpkin?” Jack croons, and Rhys fails to pull himself together enough for his tone to sound anything other than shameless, let alone professional.

“So hard,” Rhys agrees, and this time he’d actually meant to lean into the euphemism. Jack chuckles.

“I’ve also been reading your proposal”. Rhys had sent up the official schematics for his prototype that morning, with the included phase-step mechanism, and complete with failsafe. “Get up here, now”. Jack ends the call. Rhys swears under his breath, grinning.

A slight whirr rises in the silent hallway, and he takes a step.

Rhys is stepping into the space beside Jack in the next instant. Jack looks shocked for less than a second, before laughing loudly.

The room is cool and dim. He's standing at his desk, Rhys’ schematics spread across his holo-screens, and not just for the phase-boots. It looks like Jack has gone back through the past two years’ worth of Rhys’ better work, including some of those that were officially under Vasquez’s name. There also seems to be footage of all the times Jack airlocked him. There’s a moment when Jack’s laughter has faded, but his grin remains. 

“Think you’re so clever, huh,” Jack’s voice drops low, and there’s a hunger there.

“You know I am,” Rhys tries matching him for dangerous charm, but admits that the finger gun might have been overkill. Jack rolls his eyes.

“And? Get over here, cupcake”.

Rhys smiles fondly. He has a good feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. It was as I was typing the line “He took my boot” that I realised, this is lowkey an accidental reverse Cinderella au. Also, Lisa became an oc somehow? She might be self-aware. Stay safe everyone, until next time.


End file.
